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Palmar Álvarez-Blanco

I balance my work as a researcher and university professor with volunteer work in end-of-life care. I am a certified Death Doula through the University of Vermont and INELDA, and an activist devoted to honoring the right to both a dignified life and a dignified death.

Volunteering in hospice care has been a constant source of learning. I carry deep gratitude for the people who have invited me into their final chapters. Their wisdom, their silence, their fears, their courage—these have become a legacy I try to pass on, whenever and however I can.

I have also learned that to accompany someone in their dying state is not to lead, nor to fix, but to bear witness—to hold space gently as they move through the threshold. In this space, I have come to understand: it is in the process of walking each other home that we find the true antidotes to despair, fear, and sorrow.

From the moment we draw our first breath, we begin—subtly, invisibly—to say goodbye to life as we know it. And when we recognize this, something shifts: a quiet awe, a sense of crossing into deeper knowing. To look into the face of mortality, to walk beside it, changes everything. It reshapes how we see time, meaning, connection—how we live.

Some treat life as an invitation to face this truth—to reflect, to accept, even to share their dance with death. Others turn away, keeping it at a distance, until it arrives unannounced, leaving them uncertain, unprepared, and adrift.

The Vital Death Café offers a space for the questions we so often fear—a space to pause, to listen, to wonder aloud what it truly means to stand at the edge of our own mortality. Whether you follow a faith, another spiritual path, or none at all, this is an open and welcoming space for everyone.

Schuyler Vogel

As Carleton’s chaplain, and as a minister who has worked in nursing homes and in congregations, I am often in places, and with people, touched by death. 

It is present in planning services of memory, moments that combine tending to profound grief, complex family dynamics, and essential end of life details. I see it when visiting a grieving wife, whose husband unexpectedly ended his life, even though that morning he cheerfully discussed their upcoming vacation. It was there when I cared for a young man in the hospital whose sudden terminal cancer diagnosis had sent him reeling, his heart and mind full of fear, anger, disbelief, and heartbreak. 

 

Death is not only found in acute moments. It is with us always, if we are honest. Wrestling with mortality, ours and others, is a lifelong experience, an innate part of being human, and essential to a meaningful life. It offers us the possibility of deeper wisdom, broader understanding, and even at times, comfort and hope.

Death encourages us to focus on what truly matters, puts everything else in perspective, and leads us to gratitude for what we have. It forces us to face our fears and our fragility. It cuts through illusions of power and permanence. It can be profoundly unjust and cruel, leading us to question the very nature of the universe and our place in it. If you are religious, mortality requires a reckoning with ideas of God, the afterlife, and why suffering and death exist at all.

The Vital Death Cafe seeks to offer a space to explore these feelings and questions and live differently because of them. It is a practice of intentionally facing what we all must, even though we might rather pretend otherwise. It is a practice of being human and mortal together, and choosing bravery, truth, compassion, and solidarity. It is one of the most important things we can do, while we still live.